


A Little Afternoon Delight

by variative



Series: A Little Rib For Their Pleasure [2]
Category: Saturday Night Live, Weekend Update (SNL)
Genre: As Always Feelings Are Very Scary, Grudging Tenderness, He Has His Mouth Full If You Know What I Mean, M/M, Office Sex, PWP, Praise Kink, Sad Lack Of GWJBAB's Trademark Gibberish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 07:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/variative/pseuds/variative
Summary: Colin runs into The Guy Who Just Bought A Boat at work. Colin has an office with a door that locks. Things more-or-less proceed as expected.





	A Little Afternoon Delight

**Author's Note:**

> Some things in this will make more sense if you read [How You Use It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760383) first, but I'm not gonna make you or anything

They were winding down the table read for Update when The Guy gave Colin a look, his eyes big and a flush already rising in his cheeks. And they'd already hooked up a couple times since that first crazy night, so Colin knew what that look meant. He put his hand on Jason’s arm, excused himself, and stepped out of the room. He went down to his office, hoping that Michael would be out and that the Guy would figure out where to look for him. He went in, thankfully empty, and sat at his desk, the door open so that he would be visible from the hallway. He pulled up a sketch draft on his monitor, but the words blurred before his eyes, meaningless. 

“Hey,” the Guy said, knocking on the doorframe. He was blushing even harder, and he bit his lower lip. 

“Come on in,” Colin said, and as the Guy scrambled to shut the door behind him Colin stood up and went over to him. By the time the Guy was turning back around, Colin had him boxed in against the door, nowhere to go. The Guy’s hands slid onto his shoulders. Colin pressed close and kissed him. 

“Wait, wait,” the Guy said after a while, breaking away and panting for air. His mouth was flushed and wet, his eyes glittering. 

“What,” Colin said, irritably; he’d been hoping to get through this without having to listen to the Guy talk. Absentmindedly, he combed back a piece of the Guy’s hair that had fallen into his eyes, touched the Guy’s jaw and rubbed his thumb back and forth against the rasp of stubble. 

“I,” the Guy said, gulping, “I want—?” Abruptly he was dropping to his knees, his hands clumsy and urgent on Colin’s belt. 

“Oh,” Colin said. “Okay, yeah,” going breathless as the Guy fumbled with the closure of Colin’s pants. He reached down and put his hands over the Guy’s, undid the button and clasp himself. The Guy drew down his zipper, eased Colin’s slacks down his thighs. Colin’s breath caught. 

“That’s it,” he whispered. The Guy’s mouth was hot and eager around him, sucking carefully as Colin swelled to hardness on his tongue. He combed his fingers through the Guy’s hair and then cupped the back of his head; his eyes fluttered shut and he moaned softly, pushing forward, taking as much as he could. “Good job, baby,” Colin told him, “Just like that,” and got a high-pitched whine in response. “I’m gonna move a little.”

The Guy made a noise that didn’t mean much to Colin, but his hand rested on the back of Colin’s knee and he stayed relaxed against Colin, even as he shifted forward and pushed deeper into the Guy’s mouth. Just a little, rocking back and forth, mostly just enjoying the flush across the Guy’s cheeks, the fidgety pressure of his hands on Colin’s legs, the softness of his hair. After a moment of adjusting, the Guy shifted forward again, taking Colin deeper. 

“Fuck,” Colin groaned, his hand tightening in the Guy’s hair for an instant as he forgot himself. He pulled out a little, pushed back in until the Guy’s throat was working around his dick. “That’s it, baby. God, you’re so good for this.”

The Guy moaned and his hands tightened on Colin’s legs; he pushed forward, suddenly frantic, trying for it as if all he wanted in the world was to have Colin’s dick as far down his throat as he could get it, not careful at all anymore. Colin caught a bit of tooth for it, but it was just an instant, and jesus, he’d never had anyone go down on him like this. He was actually shaking, he realized, letting go of the Guy’s hair to brace his hands against the door. 

“Jesus fuck, you like that, don’t you baby,” he said, hardly recognizing his own voice. Then his brain caught up to his mouth and he realized he’d said it, he’d pointed it out, and Christ he felt like an asshole, but he couldn’t take it back now. 

The Guy fucking whimpered, but if anything his grip on Colin tightened. He sucked a little harder and Colin touched his hair and gasped, “I’m close, baby, just like that, okay? Just like that, just—oh—!”

He tried to pull back as he felt himself start to come, the Guy moved with him abortively, and in the end Colin just made a mess, spurting over the Guy’s mouth and chin, the last of it catching him in the collar. 

“Fuck,” Colin said, panting. “Sorry.”

“All kosher,” the Guy said, his voice ragged and low and a little bleary. He swallowed and licked his lips, made a little face that Colin was sure happened totally unconsciously, and then leaned forward and put his mouth on Colin again. 

“Jesus Christ,” Colin rasped. He was shuddering with overstimulation, but it wasn’t too bad, and he wasn’t going to be an idiot and tell the Guy to knock it off. The Guy touched Colin’s softening cock gently with one hand, supporting it as he licked Colin clean with delicate, careful laps of his tongue. The way he held Colin in the palm of his hand, the way his eyes slitted in concentration, made Colin feel worshipped—it was stupid, but there was no other way to describe it. 

The Guy sat back at last and pulled his sweater off and unbuttoned his shirt. Underneath the checkered oxford he was wearing a plain white undershirt that was just a little small on him. Colin touched his shoulders, hazily admired the way the fabric pulled taut across his back and around his arms. The Guy wiped his face clean on the shirt and bundled it up with the sweater. That got tossed into a corner; then he leaned up and pressed a kiss to the crease of Colin’s hip. His mouth was wet and hot and slid a little against Colin’s skin; he thought he felt a hot flash of tongue just touch him before the Guy sat back and wiped his mouth again. He looked up at Colin, and he stuttered in the middle of trying to pull his pants back up. His skin was tingling all over and nowhere more so than where the Guy had kissed him. He forced his fingers to keep moving on his belt. An absurd glow of affection warmed the inside of his chest. 

“I’m really close,” the Guy said, and looking at him Colin realized that it was obvious. The Guy was flushed deep red and his eyes were glittering; his hair was a mess and clumped up sweatily at his temples and the nape of his neck. 

“I fuckin’ bet you are,” Colin rasped, basically growled. He got down on his knees and put a hand at the back of the Guy’s neck and pulled him in. He smelled like Colin; he tasted like Colin. It almost grossed him out how hot that got him, how crazy it made him feel. He pulled the Guy up into his lap, held him close with a grip he knew was pressing too hard, was too possessive and revealed too much; the Guy sighed softly into his mouth and his hands clenched on Colin’s shoulders like an answer. 

Reluctantly, Colin broke away to ask, “You want me to blow you?”

“No,” the Guy said, and took Colin’s hand and put it in his lap. Colin felt the small hard length of him against his palm, barely there though the layers of chinos and underwear, and squeezed him appreciatively. The Guy shuddered and humped against the pressure, but then Colin moved, made him be patient while he got the belt and the fly open and pushed his hand inside. 

“Fuck,” the Guy gasped, his voice going unsteady. “Fuck, Colin, please.”

“Don’t worry,” Colin told him, “I’ve got you.” He jacked the Guy slowly with a hard grip, not the way he liked but the way that made him come the hardest or at least the most intense, and sure enough after maybe thirty seconds the Guy bucked and arched in Colin’s lap, his mouth opening in an almost pained-looking O, and soundlessly pressed his face into Colin’s neck while wetness spattered his fingers. 

He shuddered though it, and Colin kept touching him until he mutely shook his head, his mouth open and wet against Colin’s skin. Colin let go of him but left his hand shoved down the Guy’s pants for the moment, and turned his head and kissed the Guy’s ear. He shuddered one last time and then sagged, completely boneless in Colin’s lap. 

“Fuck yes,” he mumbled, turning his head to rest it more comfortably on Colin’s shoulder. 

“I  know,” Colin said. He couldn’t even feel guilty for using his time at work to hook up with a guest of the show; he felt too good. His legs were falling asleep, though, folded up under him and taking his and the Guy’s combined weight. He pulled his hand free, almost  reluctantly which was all kinds of fucked up, and shifted, trying to get his legs out from under him. 

He braced his clean hand against the Guy’s back to steady him, but he still said, “Oh!” in a thick, sex-stupid voice, and scrambled up to his feet. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Colin said, feeling cold. He straightened his legs out and winced at the ominous crack his knees let out. There was a box of tissues on the desk behind him, and he reached up and around to pull one free. The Guy hovered awkwardly as Colin cleaned himself up and at last levered himself to his feet. Jesus, he wasn’t getting any younger. 

Colin looked at the Guy curiously and then followed the nervous flicking glance he gave to the corner where his shirt and sweater ended up. “You can leave those with me if you want, and I’ll wash them for you,” he said. Heat rose in his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“It’s okay,” the Guy said. His voice was quieter and lower and rougher after sex and he said maybe three percent of the usual amount with it. Colin liked him like that a lot. His demeanor was calmer and more reasonable and the smile he turned in Colin’s direction was small but seemed healthy and natural. 

“I think I have a sweater on the couch if you want,” Colin said, tossing the tissue in the garbage bin. Then he gave the Guy a lingering once-over and smirked. “Or you can just wear that.”

“Oh! Thanks—_thanks__,_” the Guy said, flushing and half-smiling even as he turned towards the couch so fast it looked like he’d been yanked around on a string. He picked up the sweater and pulled it over his head, and then looked down at it. His eyes bugged out and he gulped. “This is—do you? I,” he said, coherently. 

Colin grinned at him and came over and touched the worn Harvard decal that arced proudly across the front of the sweater. “Sorry. It’s the only one I’ve got,” he said honestly. “Does it bother you?”

“No—no,” the Guy said, blush raging. It clashed badly with the maroon sweater. “I just… you don’t mind, that—that they…?”

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” Colin said. “Listen, come by tonight? Your clothes will be done in the morning, you can take them with you.”

“Sure,” the Guy said, nodding hard, and then he swallowed and ducked in and kissed Colin. 

His hands came up on instinct; when the Guy broke away, they were cradling his neck and Colin was stroking his thumb through the fine hair behind his ear. He thought about stopping, but only for a moment. 

“I’ll text you when I’m out of here,” Colin said quietly, because there was so little space between them. “Probably around nine or ten, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah.” The Guy nodded and licked his lips, and then smiled a smile that looked well and wholesome and happy, not at all like the sickly, morbid grins Colin was used to seeing from him. “I’ll see you, Jost.”

“Later, Rich,” Colin said, and smiled back. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is a work of fiction and is inspired by certain characters and personas. it does not refer to, is not representative of, and is not intended to resemble any real events or persons living or deceased!
> 
> also, i think that Jason at the top is meant to be Jason Sudeikis (but I'm not sure, I wrote that paragraph months ago) and I think that might be a huge anachronism but whatever


End file.
